


hospital room flowers

by LemongrassAndSleep



Category: Madam Secretary
Genre: IT'S SO SWEET, Oneshot, also i'm such a slut for hospital room bonding, i love the relationship these two have, mentor/mentee, the thought of russell jackson reading jane austen is so funny to me idk why
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29201115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemongrassAndSleep/pseuds/LemongrassAndSleep
Summary: Stevie wakes up to the sound of someone reading Jane Austen. Her vision is blurry from sleep, and she has to blink a few times to clear her eyes. There’s no sunlight coming through the windows, but she has to squint against the harsh lighting of the hospital room. As she’s looking around, trying to orient herself in her surroundings, her eyes land on Russell Jackson sitting on a plastic chair next to her bed, her battered copy of Pride and Prejudice in his hands.Russell visits Stevie in hospital the day of the attack on the White House. Set during 5x01
Relationships: Russell Jackson & Stevie McCord
Comments: 12
Kudos: 15





	hospital room flowers

Stevie wakes up to the sound of someone reading Jane Austen. Her vision is blurry from sleep, and she has to blink a few times to clear her eyes. There’s no sunlight coming through the windows, but she has to squint against the harsh lighting of the hospital room. As she’s looking around, trying to orient herself in her surroundings, her eyes land on Russell Jackson sitting on a plastic chair next to her bed, her battered copy of  _ Pride and Prejudice _ in his hands.

“What time is it?” She croaks, interrupting him, her throat dry and achy. It occurs to her that she should be more surprised to see her boss sitting next to her hospital bed, reading nineteenth century literature, but somehow she isn’t.

“Just gone seven,” he replies, putting the book down in his lap. Then, in an unusual display of concern: “How are you feeling?”

“Amazing. Like I’ve just had a spa day,” she jokes weakly, looking down at the bruises on her arms and trying to work out which of her many tubes went into where. He lets out something sounding like a laugh. “Don’t visiting hours end at six?”

“I’m very persuasive,” Russell replies, by way of explanation, and Stevie’s sure he saw him smile. She’d have to apologise for whatever he did or said to the nurses later.

“That’s my book,” she says, nodding towards his lap, confused how it got there. 

“Oh, your parents brought it from home. It was on the table when I got here,” he explains, closing it and placing it back where he found it, careful not to knock any of the several bouquets of flowers that had already been placed at Stevie’s bedside. “I remember you reading to me in the hospital after my heart attack. I thought the least I could do was return the favour.”

“You gave me a job,” she points out. Why he thinks he owes her anything is beyond her.

“Yeah, and look where that got you,” he mutters. Stevie frowns at the implication that Russell might blame himself for what happened, but she doesn’t know how to respond, so she just watches him through still-sleepy eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Thank you. For reading. It’s one of my favourite books,” Stevie says. They sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, listening to the beeping of the machines, and Russell shuffles his hands in his lap. Stevie’s not sure what to say, never been in a position where she’s had to make small talk with POTUS’ Chief of Staff before. “How’s the President?” She finally settles on, desperate for some kind of an update on the situation. Her mom told her not to worry, and to rest, but she’d never been very good at not worrying  _ or _ resting. Like mother, like daughter.

“He’s fine. Secret Service got him out of there and checked him over straight away. He’s got a few cuts but he’s okay,” he answers, his facial features darkening. “Some of us weren’t so lucky.”

Stevie knows exactly who he’s talking about, and she tries her best to swallow down the lump that rises in her throat. “I’m really sorry. About June.”

She pretends she doesn’t see the tears that are falling from Russell’s eyes, knows he wouldn’t want her to see him cry. “Yeah,” he says. It’s all he can manage to say.

She doesn’t know it, but the guilt that crushes her chest, makes it hard to breathe from the weight of it, almost matches Russell’s own. She hadn’t been awake much since it happened, but she’d spent every minute since she found out wondering if June would still be alive had she’d done something differently. Russell had been lucid for many more hours since this morning, but he’d spent many of them the same way. He rubs a hand over his eyes, doing his best to compose himself, and Stevie doesn’t think she’s ever seen him look this vulnerable. She’s trying to think of something to say when he finally looks up, but no words come out, so she just smiles at him, hopes it conveys everything she wants him to know. He manages to press his lips into an upward curve, and Stevie knows he got the message.

“When do you need me back?” She says, needing to change the subject and break the heavy silence before she starts crying, too.

“What?” He replies, shocked that she’s even thinking about coming back to work right now, when she’s laying in a hospital bed. It occurs to him that maybe he needs to rethink his management style, but he dismisses the thought. A little fear of one’s employer never hurt anybody.

She thinks he didn’t hear her, and begins to repeat herself, unaware how ridiculous the question she just asked was. “When do you-”

“I know what you said. Stevie, you’re in hospital. You were a victim of a terrorist attack, for God’s sake! I don’t need you back until you’re ready,” he half-shouts, raising his voice so loud a passing nurse looks in on them. After a few minutes assuring her that they’re fine, and a promise to keep his voice down, Russell turns back to Stevie. “No coming back to work until you’re completely better, understood?”

She nods, probably a bit too hard for someone so bruised. “Understood.” Feeling brave, she grins at him, ready to crack a joke. “I don’t know how the White House will function at all without me though.”

Any other time, and from any other intern, a comment like that would earn a lecture about how insignificant and replaceable she was, but Russell could only sigh. “I don’t know either,” he says with a wry smile.

“Where will the President go? I’m guessing the Oval Office is going to be off limits for a while.” Stevie asks. 

“We’re moving into temporary offices until they fix our area,” he replies. “Hopefully we won’t be out too long.”

“I guess the office space is one of the more attractive parts of the job,” Stevie says, earning another laugh from Russell. She’s always proud of herself when she can get any semblance of a human emotion out of him, rare as those moments usually are.

Russell’s about to express his agreement, complain about how ungrateful the american people are and how he doesn’t know why anyone would want the job, but phone beeps in his coat jacket, and he fishes it out, sighing when he reads the message. “They need me at the White House. I’ve got to go.”

Honestly, Stevie’s still exhausted despite having been asleep pretty much since she went into surgery, but she’s sad to see him go. She was enjoying his company, in an odd way. “Thank you for coming to see me,” she says, watching him collect his bag and coat.

“It was the least I could do,” he replies, making sure he has everything. “Oh, I almost forgot, Carol wanted me to give you this.” 

He reaches into his jacket again, producing a folded up piece of paper and handing it to Stevie. “It’s her phone number. In case you need anything. I tried to tell her that you had your parents and your siblings and lord knows how many hospital staff, but she insisted.”

Stevie has to hold back tears, touched by the gesture. “Will you thank her for me? I really appreciate it.”

Russell nods, avoiding meeting her watery eyes out of awkwardness. “Of course.” He stops on his way out the door, awkwardly turning back to Stevie. “Get better soon, okay?”

“Okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey! thanks for reading, i actually am working on a stevie/blake multi-chapter set during and after stevie being in hospital right now, but i couldn't get this idea out of my head. i hope you enjoyed! <3


End file.
